


That's Not My Name

by nelirul



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Ben is so damn considerate, Bowers Gang - Freeform, Eddie is so supportive, Gen, Mike is too smart, Stan put two and two together, Trans!Richie, Transphobia, accepting losers, also, also richie is a badass, bev is an angel, bill is A LITTLE BABY WHO LOVES TO BE SENTIMENTAL, emotional richie, just saying, they can choke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 13:50:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12889242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nelirul/pseuds/nelirul
Summary: It's a coming out fic for trans!Richie which does include use of his dead name and bullying from the Bowers Gang, aka the Grease Boys™





	That's Not My Name

Richie and Eddie are sitting on Richie’s bed, Eddie solving a Rubik’s Cube and Richie reading an old comic book. They haven’t had much time to hang out by themselves, but usually when they do they’re going out places, oftentimes to the movies or to the quarry, or just out for a bike ride. It's been longer than the two can recall since they’ve spent time to just sit and enjoy each other’s company. Eddie tells Richie all the time that he doesn’t understand how Richie can be so loudmouthed when they’re with everyone else if he’s the most serene person Eddie’s ever spent time with alone. Richie always smiles, but never decides to explain the reason why to Eddie, until today.

“Eds?” Richie blurts, and his mind is suddenly jumbled. His heart’s skipping beats all over the place until suddenly it feels like it’s not beating at all. Saying Eddie’s name can mean anything, there’s no reason to tell him now.  _ Maybe I’m not ready,  _ he thinks,  _ and maybe I never will be. _ Eddie looks up, and for a moment he looks annoyed, most likely at the nickname.

The minute he sees Richie’s face, he softens.

“Yeah, Rich?” Eddie calls back, and in meeting his eyes, Richie knows that he’s gotta say it. He will never not be scared, and the best way to overcome a fear of something is to face it head on and live.

“Do you want to know why I’m always so loud with the other guys?” Richie’s closed the comic book and is fidgeting with his thumbs at this point, but his eyes are still trained on Eddie’s nose. It’s always been much easier than making eye contact when nervous.

“Well, it’s not really my first thought, but I have always wondered, yeah. Is it something bad? Although, I’m not sure why it would be something bad. Just… keep talking,” Eddie says, because Eddie’s looking Richie in the eyes and can see that they’re trained downwards, and for a split second between him talking and Richie answering him, Eddie thinks they’re pointed towards his mouth. He feels as if he’s talked too much, because he can’t think of any other reason Richie would be looking at his mouth, and then he remembers the things Richie tends to do when nervous and gives him a small smile to encourage him to speak. He scratches his nose, hoping that Richie will break eye contact with it and make eye contact with him.

“So… Wh-when I was really little, I used to be… Well, I was… b-born a…” Richie’s nerves haven’t gotten the best of him in such a long time, he’d almost forgotten what it felt like. A part of him is angry that he can’t finish the sentence, and another part of him is stubborn in his refusal to say it. He continues to hesitate, and Eddie understands like a snapped rubber band when this pause lasts longer than 15 seconds.

“If you’re trying to tell me something about you being transgender, you don’t have to say you were ‘born a girl.’ You were born a boy, and will always be one. Your parents just didn’t know, right?” Truth be told, Eddie, just a few weeks ago, wasn’t even familiar with the term. It only just occurred to him why Richie is so passionate about trans and queer characters in any media, and Eddie’s glad Stan taught him what the word means while Richie was on one of his rants.

Richie’s mouth is hanging open, and it snaps closed, and suddenly tears are forming in his eyes. His lip quivers and he doesn’t sob or cry out loud. He just lets out some silent tears and wipes them away after about 10 seconds. He didn’t expect that to be such an easy feat and he’s shocked. He’s completely blown away, and he’s thanking everything and everyone that he was able to have a best friend so understanding as Eddie Kaspbrak.

“Right,” Richie’s voice doesn’t crack like it usually would if a person cries, and his smile is wide and bright, “I love you, Eddie Spaghetti. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

Eddie smiles back at him and then remembers the initial objective. “I love you, too, but what does that have to do with you being loud with the other losers?” He asks, and Richie seems to be much more chipper in his answers.

“I hate the old me. I hate how quiet I was around everyone. I hate the way my parents made me dress up. I hate the way my voice sounded. I hate that stupid name I used to have. I hate it all. It was always so uncomfortable, and it was like a shirt that just doesn’t fit right sometimes. It made me feel this weird pressure in my chest, and when I found out what transgender means and finally figured that I'm a boy, I changed right away. I was always so damn angry about everything, but I never used to say anything to anyone.

“Like, I just… I just wanted to change it all when I let the old me go. I wanted to tell people when I was unhappy, because if I don’t it’s never going to be any different. I wanted to say what’s on my mind no matter what the fuck I’m thinking, you know?” Richie laments, and Eddie does know about speaking his mind, but he’s more proud than understanding. He’s proud of Richie for telling him, and for taking the steps to actually make adjustments to the things that made him unhappy.

“I do know,” Eddie says with a nod, “and is there a reason you’re always so calm with me?” He asks the question with genuine curiosity laced in it.

“I don’t ever have to complain with you, Eds. We work really well together, and our compromises are always so easy and fair, and it's not hard to find something to do that we both agree on because we aren’t seven different heads. You and me, Eddie, we’re simple. We just do whatever the hell we want, and most of the time, it’s the same thing for the both of us.”

Eddie smiles wide. He’s satisfied with the answer, and so he sits back and continues solving the Rubik’s Cube.

“Fuckin’ A.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

School always seems like it goes on forever for Richie. He’s always going home tired and makes himself snap out of it before his friends come around on their bikes to pick him up. With the newest three losers, Richie feels even more of a responsibility to be loud and enthusiastic. It sometimes leads to them getting mad at him, but Richie thinks it’s funny when they beep him. He finds it to be sort of a phrase of endearment. Sometimes, though, it does pick up their moods.

It’s almost time to go home, just one more class, Richie thinks to himself. He’s walking through the hallway, heading to Social Studies, the class Ben and Bev have together, they’ll already be waiting for him with Bill and Mike, ready for him to show up and join them so they can walk each other to class. It’s nice having such a big friend group sometimes, it always feels so secure. Richie hates walking down the hall alone, because he knows that’s when Henry and his goons are most likely to catch him. He looks behind his back, and when he sees that no one’s staring at him or following him, he turns back around and continues his trek, until he’s pulled into the boy’s bathroom by his backpack.

“Where do you think you’re going, Four Eyes?” Henry asks, pinching Richie’s face rather painfully. Richie just grabs his wrist and tries pulling his hand off, but Belch holds his arms down.

“Eat shit, Bowers!” Richie says, and he realizes after Henry’s face lights up that that was the wrong thing to say.

Henry smiles and his posse starts to drag Richie over to the nearest stall.

“Speaking of eating shit…”

Richie kicks and thrashes and fights back, but he knows it won’t make a difference. “Get off of me! Fuck you, let me go! Stop, please, let me go!” Richie shouts. Hopefully someone will come into the bathroom, but it’s obvious by now that no one gives a shit about him.

“Richie? Richie!” Stan’s voice rings out in the bathroom and Richie knows that if Stan comes into the bathroom that he’ll get beat up, but maybe he’ll evade it.

“Stanley!” Richie screams. His head is dunked in a matter of seconds without warning, and when he comes back up he’s spitting and coughing and choking.

“Next time you open your big mouth, think again, Girly Boy,” Henry says, and drops Richie’s head, knocking it against the bowl. “Man, you were so much cuter back in grade school, Amanda…” Henry whistles as he walks away, and Richie, even with a bleeding forehead, can see Stan’s confused expression, and he’s fucking  _ fuming. _

_ “Fuck. You.” _ Richie’s barely able to pick his head up but he’s angry and his ears and neck are hot and he’s seeing red because there’s a lot Richie can tolerate but being called that goddamned name isn’t one of them. Henry Bowers is nobody. He has no fucking right to say this shit. He has even less of a right to do shit like this. Richie’s hair is wet and it’s dripping and matted to his forehead and when he manages to get up he pushes it back.

“What’s wrong, Amanda? Upset that we’re just... reminiscing? Missing the good old days when little Amy Tozier was so shy and tiny…” Henry taunts, complete with little hand movements and two octaves higher in his voice.

Richie can barely fucking see and he doesn’t need to step forward because Henry is right by his face so he just swings. He swings hard. Henry isn’t much more than shocked and he raises his head, his fingers with red on them.

“I will fucking  _ end  _ you if you keep pulling shit like this. If I won’t take this ‘Amy’ shit from my parents, then I sure as hell don’t have to take it from you soon-to-be dropouts,” Richie spits. Henry looks angry, and Stanley is looking on in shocked silence.

“What the fuck are you dipshits standing around for? Kick his ass!” Henry shouts, and his “friends” hesitate to move, because Henry really isn’t intimidating when he’s reeling from being punched by Richie Tozier, of all the scrawny freshman possible.

Richie is still pissed, and because he’s fueled by anger and bravery, he kicks Henry right in the knee, and Bowers goes down. Richie doesn’t get any shit from the rest of the older boys, so he walks to Stan, forehead still bleeding, picks up his book bag, and walks out of the bathroom with his friend.

“I hope that ugly motherfucker leaves me alone from now on, I’m sick and tired of all his stupid shit, and he hasn’t called me that name in forever. I guess it was just the last straw,” Richie explains. He sees that the halls are empty, and wonders how long it took him to punch Henry and get a swirlie. Stan looks inquisitive, and before he can ask any questions, Richie stops him.

“How about after school we all meet at the river and I can explain that name to you?”

Stan considers this for a moment.

“I’m pretty sure I already understand, but that sounds good,” he says, and he turns to walk to his class.

“Not as good as your mom last ni-”

“Beep beep, Trashmouth!” Stan replies before he walks into the class, and he sounds stern, but he’s smiling.

“Yeah… Yeah, alright,” Richie laughs, and he heads to the nurse.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bev is the first to see Richie when he shows up at the river, and Ben is the second.

“What happened?” Mike asks him, because the other two are just wide-eyed at the bandages on Richie’s forehead.

Stan and Bill show up with Eddie during Richie’s explanation of the Henry Bowers Swirlie story. Bill wasn’t very surprised, because Stan had just told him this, but Eddie was shocked and disgusted.

“What the fuck, he dunked your face into a toilet? I hope you cleaned up, do you know how many germs are in a toilet bowl? Like, when was the last time that thing was cleaned? Oh, my God, what if it’s never been cleaned? Oh, I think I’m going to be sick,” Eddie rambles on, and Richie smiles. He explains that he did clean his face and actually washed his hair at the nurse’s office so that he could get patched up.

“So, Richie, I’ve been waiting since sixth period started for you to explain this situation,” Stanley says.

“What situation? I thought he just explained it,” Eddie looks between the two of them, and he’s wondering what this is, because if Richie got really hurt and is trying to hide the lot of it, Eddie actually might have to kill someone.

“Actually, Eds, funny you’d ask. You already know this, so I, uh… I actually might need you up here for… support,” Richie remembers coming out to Eddie, and Jesus, an audience makes this much harder, he’ll have to admit. Eddie looks confused for a moment, and then he remembers as well.

“Oh, shit, really? Today, when you’re hurt, of all days?” he asks, with genuine concern. He walks to stand next to Richie, and says, hushed, “A-are you sure that you’re, um, like… Are you ready to go through with this?”

“Fuck, Eds, if I don’t do it now, I’m pretty sure it’ll be a long-ass time before I ever do,” Richie responds, and he’s smiling to hide the fact that he’s terrified.

“Okay, so… Basically, th-the story goes… I-I’m trans!” he blurts out, and notices that he just all but screamed it. Richie puts his hand over his mouth, because he feels like he was too aggressive about this, and  _ oh my god, now they’re gonna hate me this was such a stupid idea what the- _

Eddie puts a hand on his back and it’s so reassuring that all of Richie’s thoughts melt away for a second. His anxiety hits him full force, however, when no one else says anything. Eddie will always be by his side, sure, but these other kids are his best friends and losing them is probably the scariest thing he could ever imagine.

The other losers nod, and Mike and Stan are the only two that aren’t surprised. “I kinda figured,” he hears Mike say.

“Today just confirmed it for me, actually. I had my suspicions at all your rants. You’re not very subtle, Rich. I’m just glad you told us,” Stan smiled.

“Well, I’m not sure if I really knew this beforehand because I don’t think I ever picked up on those rants. Is there anything I’ve been doing that’s been making you uncomfortable? Something you couldn’t tell me because I didn’t know about this? If so, I’ll stop it right this moment,” Ben goes on for a bit, and Richie is smiling so fondly that he isn’t sure his eyes can hold any more love in them. 

“Well, Trashmouth, I guess I’ll have to start checking your binding for you! I know how your parents are when they’re around so I can only assume you’re using tape or ace bandages, babe.” Bev is walking up to him and giving him a hug, whispering her last sentence to him. Richie doesn’t know why she’s being so confidential about her last sentence when all of the losers know about his parents until she turns them around a bit to face away from the losers and lifts her shirt slightly.

She’s got ace bandages around her chest, and Richie’s wondering why. He asks her, quietly, why these are on her.

“If I still look underdeveloped I can’t be called a slut anymore. It’d just be too weird for them to do,” Bev whispers, and then says, “A secret for a secret.”

Richie is smiling really hard when they turn back around, although his heart pangs that she has to go to these lengths to make herself less of a target.

The others don’t question what that was about, because they know turning away from the group signals something super personal, and despite all being best friends, they know that sometimes privacy is necessary. Some things are better not imposed on.

“W-w-well, I for one had n-no idea, but I ap-p-p-apre-fuck,” Bill tries, and Richie gives him a look of understanding. He’s about to tell Bill that it’s okay, and that he understands, when Bill stops him.

“N-n-no, I w-want to  _ s-s- _ say it,” Bill takes a deep breath. He pauses for a bit.

“Richie, I’m glad-d you t-told us, a-and I acce-pt and love y-y-you,” he seems proud of himself, because oftentimes saying things that he’s passionate about completely wipe out his stutter, but Richie knows that when he’s surprised it hits him full force. Bill smiles so wide at Richie and his grin falters a bit when he notices the tears in Richie’s eyes. The boy sniffles and, unlike his confession to Eddie, actually cried this time.

It’s a very ugly cry.

He cries for about two minutes before the losers all come pile around him to hug him. He’s a sniffly and muddled mess, Richie loves his friends so  _ much _ that it physically aches in his chest.

“Thank you so much, oh my god,” Richie says, and it’s almost hard to understand, it was more of a choking sound mixed with gasps and sobs. He calms down after five minutes in the hug, and that’s when he tells them he loves them. A little clearer than his last statement, but not by much.

“You guys are literally my favorite people in the entire world,” Richie smiles, and because he’s been too serious all day, he ends it with, “I mean, other than your moms.”

“Beep beep, Richie,” they all say in unison, and Richie is hit by such an overwhelming feeling of fondness that he begins to cry again.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked this story! I’m super attached to trans!richie because he’s a lot like a friend I have who I love with all of my heart.


End file.
